


Burning in the New Year

by Nehasy



Category: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne
Genre: Cultural Differences, Developing Relationship, Humor, M/M, Moment in time, New Year's Eve, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 10:39:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13212030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehasy/pseuds/Nehasy
Summary: Astoria takes a brief moment to celebrate the turning of the year, a celebration Dilandau isn't familiar with but is pretty sure is pointless.





	Burning in the New Year

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fun flash fic challenge to get the juices flowing since I'm hitting a bit of a bump with Chapter 15. This jumps a head a little in the series from where I am currently in the writing, but there's no real spoilers other than it taking place in Astoria. Enjoy this bit of fluff!

“This is stupid, you know that right?” Dilandau huffed in annoyance while eyeing a servant who was winding his way through the crowd, a tray filled with glasses of fine wine held aloft. “The sun is going to come back whether you stay up all night waiting for it or not.”

“Why is it that you seem to find fault in every tradition we have?” Van grumbled, watching the albino deftly snag one of the drinks and take a sip. He pondered trying to regulate how much the dragonslayer drank over the course of the night but quickly marked that off as a lost cause. All it would do was annoy Dilandau and encourage him to make some sort of scene. So far, he seemed to at least be content with quietly monologuing to Van and shooting glares of death at the delegation from Freid.

“Seriously?” At least Dilandau swallowed his wine before snickering and gestured with his free hand to include the revelry taking place around them. “This is no different than a bunch of barbarians huddled in their little hut around a fire, staring at it in some silly quasi religious fervour and praying to their gods to spit the sun back up before the world dies in darkness.”

Giving the zaibachi youth a rather skeptical snort, Van looked around the room as he was bade, taking in the opulence of the astorian great hall, filled with glittering nobles dressed in shining silks and jewels, tuning themselves into elegant living works of art. Piles of rich and savoury food overflowed on the long tables set up on one side of the hall. Decorative, brightly coloured and easy to pick up and wander around with, they expertly hid the fact that well over half of Gaea was currently risking death by starvation.

A lively band was playing in one corner, their music was festive and traditional, encouraging those gathered to dance together though mostly it was the younger nobles who indulged, having taken over the section of the hall closest to the band. Their delighted laughter carried over the music and Van knew that he’d find most of their regiment there, enjoying the festivities and taking advantage of the fact that they had the day off of training tomorrow, much to Dilandau’s loudly voiced chagrin.

Those who were older gathered around the great fire, basking in its warmth and sharing stories of years past. Most were of great battles of legends past. The shadows of the Destiny War still hung too heavily on the hearts and souls to be spoken of so soon, though he could see that many wondered when they too would be added to the fireside stories.

Worlds in peril, visitors from the Mystic Moon, magic and destiny battling against dark technologies and individuality. Draconians, dragons and a war which pulled all of the known world into it’s cruel grasp... Van doubted it would be long at all.

Still, despite the pretty trappings and ostentatious ceremony, stripped down to it’s bare bones, the dragonslayer was right. Here they were, locked in a room and gathering around a fire while they all secretly hoped to see the sun once more.

“Just try to enjoy yourself Dilandau, and it wouldn’t kill you to be nice.”

“It might.” The dragonslayer countered as he took another sip of his drink, finishing the glass and quickly switching it out with a second. Surprisingly, he passed the wine to Van before claiming another for himself. “Are you really willing to take that risk with my life?”

“More and more every day.” The king countered, eyeing the wine for a moment thoughtfully before taking a small sip. He’d never forgotten the last time he’d gotten drunk in the presence of the dragonslayer and had no intention of ending up in the cell of a ship again.

Rather than grow angry at the comment, Dilandau instead chuckled slightly and raised his glass in mock salute, looking thoroughly amused by the snark.

“Alright fine.” He said after several silents sips, giving Van a lofty sigh of one heavily burdened with an unpleasant task. “Explain this little... ceremony to me.” Another hand wave in the direction of the festivities, managing to utterly dismiss it while at the same time begrudgingly acknowledging its existance. Dilandau was a rather multi-talented individual.

“Well, this is the longest night of darkness and it’s said that the dead can walk into our world and snatch you into the darkness with them.” Van’s eyes narrowed as he saw how the dragonslayer seemed to perk up at that prospect, a heavy wave of jealousy rushed through him at the thought of having to share the young captain with his fallen men, even for one night of the year. “It’s not true, so don’t get your hopes up.” It was impossible to keep the slight edge from his voice and Dilandau favoured him with a slight smirk or superiority, enjoying the power he had over the dark king.

“I wouldn’t dream of it King Fanel, do continue.” Ignoring the barb, Van took another sip of his drink before speaking again.

“To keep the darkness at bay, hunters are sent out the night before, bedecked in bells to drive away any evil spirits who’ve already slipped across the veil. They go to the forests and find the thickest logs they can. Ones which will burn all night and emit the best light.”

“A brilliant tactic considering how hard pressed we are for resources right now, do go on, this is fascinating. I’m currently picturing Schezar tromping through snow jingling like a madman and dragging a tree behind him.” It had to be the wine because Van found himself snickering at that mental image.

Currently, the knight in question was standing at his post by the door, watching the two of them warily, silently warning them to stay in his sight or else face his wrath. It was impressive that he was able to do this while simultaneously quietly flirting with a rather buxom noble woman and her sister AND keep the door guarded. Multitasking seemed to be a Schezar thing.

“The light keeps the dead away and represents the ever burning sun.” Van continued, doing his best to ignore the knight’s glares. “Over the course of the night, people will toss a token onto the fire that they’ve made. It represents the burdens of the previous year that still weigh on them. The hope is that they will be burned away in the new year.”

“Ok, I’m starting to like this fire festival thing. Let’s find something to throw on the fire! Ambassador Falafell would burn wonderfully...”

“Things, not people you psychopath.” Van shot back, wishing that Dilandau didn’t keep suggesting such things with that wonderful purr to his voice. It made it nearly impossible to deny him, even more so when he stepped closer to the king and murmured softly in his ear, warm breath brushing across sensitive skin.

“Are you sure? You know how I get around fires....”

“That had better be bad sexual innuendo because I’m not letting you burn the city down... again.”

“You’re no fun Fanelia.”

“Fine, sleep in the stables with Kamata.”

“And give Schezar what he wants? Never.”

“Then shut up and let me finish my explanation. Besides, I’ve seen more than one effigy of you being discreetly tossed into the flames tonight.” If anything, Dilandau looked almost pleased by this revelation, once again proving that the albino simply wasn’t right in the head even at the best of times. “Anyway, You’re not supposed to sleep tonight, that’s why all the nobles are gathered here, to keep each other awake.”

“Hmph, good luck with that, have you heard their conversations?”

“Only the smallest of children are allowed to sleep, but there are always small Watchfires nearby to keep them bathed in the light and an adult watching over them. Everyone else stays up until the sun rises. When people get tired, there’s stimulant laced drinks on hand for them and No, you’re not allowed near them.” Van quickly added. “They’ll mix badly with all the other stuff in your system and with our luck, you’d have a psychotic episode or something... not that anyone would likely be able to tell given your usual loving personality.”

“... and this was the year King Van Fanel found himself thrown on the fire...”

“In your dreams.”

“I assure you, my dreams are much more explicit than that.” There was that damn purr again, and this time Van found himself blushing hotly. Quickly, he glanced around to make sure no one had noticed, but for once, it seemed that they were not the centre of attention. That honour was being given to Irma who’s veil shrouded form was dancing rather racily with Cassian, the two showing off their inhuman grace and dexterity as they drove the other dancers back, claiming the floor as their personal territory.

Though Van felt a surge of protectiveness for his draconic sibling, he couldn’t help but feel a smile tug at his lips. It was good to see that she was enjoying herself and getting a chance at seeing what a normal life was like. Even more heartening was seeing the rest of their regiment treat her like one of them despite her less than human appearance... of course, there was a reason many of the elite secretly referred to them as the Mongrels.

“That cat better not try anything with her.” Van couldn’t help but grumble. He’d never really warmed to that particular beastkin, likely due to Cassian’s somewhat antagonistic nature towards Merle.

“If he does and she doesn’t like it, she’ll eat him. Don’t worry about it Fanel. Irma can take care of herself.” Dilandau didn’t appear to be at all concerned as he snagged himself a third glass of wine from a passing tray and glanced around idly for their other sibling.

Ignis was easy enough to spot, even in this gaudily dressed crowd, his brilliant flame coloured hair made him into a perfect centrepiece for this particular festival and a small crowd of nobles had gathered around the shy youth, utterly convinced in their drunkenness that he was the fire of the new year made flesh. Several were even giving him various tokens from the previous year and no doubt explaining their mistakes, seeking absolution.

“If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll remember this moment and use it for some glorious blackmail opportunities later.” Dilandau snickered in amusement, making no attempt at rescuing the youth from the attention. “Don’t you dare intervene Van.” He quickly added, noticing the king tensing slightly, preparing to rescue the boy. “No one’s hurting him. Besides, he needs to learn how to handle himself socially.”

“You and I have vastly different ideas of how to handles oneself socially Dilandau.”

“I know, that’s why I gave them both daggers before the party. Now, tell me more about this silly ritual thing. So all we do is stay up all night drinking and dancing? You talked me into cancelling morning training for that?”

“You gave them weapons for a party!?”

“Focus Van. You were explaining about barbarians being scared of the dark.”

“I hate you so much sometimes.” Van sighed in defeat, doing his best to ignore the triumphant grin shot in his direction. “Well... er... From here things get a little different. In Fanelia, at midnight, all the bells in the city ring, signalling the beginning of the end of the long night. The parties tend to get a little crazy as everyone tries to pack everything into those last few hours... you see, your vices don’t carry over into the new year, at least they’re not supposed to. The idea is that you get everything out of your system and start fresh with the rising of the sun.”

“I can see why there would be some need to rest after that... really though it doesn’t sound at all practical. How many people get alcohol poisoning or bizarre sexual diseases after these parties?”

“It’s a cleansing of the body and spirit Dilandau, not an orgy.”

“Sounds like one.” Dilandau couldn’t help but grin at Van’s look of profound irritation and embarrassment. Few things were sweeter than putting the dark king off balance and the dragonslayer revelled in doing so constantly.

“Anything after that? Or is it just vomiting and hangovers to begin the new year?”

“We... make a wish on the first rays of the sun. It’s said that what your doing when the sun’s rays first touch you is a sign of what you’ll be doing for the rest of the year.” That seemed to catch the dragonslayer’s attention and he grinned widely.

“I like this idea! Let’s kill someone at sunrise! How about Chid? He’s young, it’s not like anyone has had time to get seriously emotionally attached to him.” Van would have loved to have been able to say that he was surprised by this, but he really wasn’t. In fact, it was almost expected. He’d have been more shocked by it’s absence.

“You’re not killing Prince Chid.”

“Fine fine. You kill him for me.”

“NO! I’m not murdering anyone for you you psychopath!”

“...there’s no love in your heart Fanel.” Dilandau replied with sombre tones, sounding like Van had just denied the softness of a baby bird or sweetness of a puppy. After all this time, the albino still had the ability to make it seem as if Van was the bad guy in their exchanges and it was maddening!

“So what do they do here in Astoria?” Dilandau continued as if he hadn’t just proposed regicide while in the astorian court. “I can’t really picture Ice Princess Ereis getting drunk and playing “The Lucky Bandit” with everyone... and I really don’t want to picture King Aston doing that either.” Both youths took a moment to shudder and Van quickly finished off his drink, only to find a new one waiting for him, courtesy of Dilandau.

“Here, they note the midnight hour, but things stay sombre if you’re a royal. Often they retell the story of Jeture and then there’s the Lightening. Each person will be given a candle and they light it from the hearth fire that’s been burning all night. While the candle burns, they need to find someone and whisper a deep truth to them, something that will unburden their soul, leaving them cleansed for the new year. Most of the time, they speak to priests of Jeture, but really, they can do it with anyone.

“If they do this before the candle burns out, then they enter the new year with their soul purged. If they don’t, then the guilt will grow over the passing year, bringing misfortune in its wake.”

Dilandau actually appeared to be thoughtful for a moment and he glanced over at one of the tables off on the side of the room, filled with over a hundred thin white tapered candles waiting to be lit.

“They really believe that?” For once he didn’t sound mocking, making Van wonder what guilt the dragonslayer might want to purge from his soul. As far as Van was concerned, Dilandau attempting to confess all of his crimes could take a week of nonstop confession, but he knew from experience that guilt and Dilandau were totally foreign entities. The albino didn’t regret any of his past actions no matter how vile. He was too much a creature of the moment to be bothered by what had already been done.

Well, Van resolved, he could confess for both of them. He already knew that Dilandau wouldn’t accept any apologies for anything that had happened during the war... and getting punched in the face for trying to do so didn’t appeal to him in the slightest. Still, he did feel the weight pressing down on him and knew that before the candles went out, he’d say something to the other teen. He didn’t know what, but with luck and perhaps a few gods taking pity on him, he wouldn’t get punched in the face... again.

“So once the candles go out, what happens?” It seemed that Dilandau was displaying his usual tenacity, refusing to move onto another topic until he’d utterly exhausted this one and driven it to ground. Unable to resist a faint smile, Van found that he actually sort of admired that trait, especially when it wasn’t being used against himself.

“Well, for several nations, Astoria included, a Seer from Freid reads the rising sun and makes a pronouncement of the fate of the upcoming year. Many of the priesthood have been studying signs and portents for the past few months preparing for this moment.

“Is that why the diminutive bedwetter is here?” Dilandau spared a scathing look towards Prince Chid and his entourage who were currently chatting with Princess Millerna and Heir Dryden. The boy, barely seven years old was doing his best to appear as adult as possible though it was growing increasingly obvious that the late hour was giving him difficulty.

Van really wanted to go over there and speak to the young prince. The two of them had always gotten along and out of everyone, Chid was the best able to relate to him, having also lost both his parents while still a child and been forced to carry the weight of a kingdom on his young shoulders. Unfortunately, Chid and Dilandau in any proximity to each other didn’t ever end well. The two had hated each other on sight and there seemed to be no indication of that changing anytime soon.

“Have some respect Dilandau.” Van ground out, growing tired of how many times a day he had to say that. “He’s royalty.”

“He’s a coward.” It was an old argument and the king was in no mood to open it up again, especially in such a public place.

“You don’t need to speak to him, just stop looking like you’re planning to toss him into the fire.”

“I make no promises.”

“Anyway, yes, that’s why he’s here. As well as the fact that he’s still a member of the Astorian royal family. That tall woman with him? The one with the tattoos on her forehead and hands? She’s their seer and will be making the prophecy.”

“The one who’s been eyeing the two of us since she walked into the room? Wonderful.” Van didn’t trust the delighted tone of voice for a moment.

“Leave the seer alone. You’ve killed enough of their holy men.”

“This one’s a woman, there’s a difference you know Van.” Nope, he wouldn’t strangle the dragonslayer in the middle of the party. It didn’t matter how many of the assembled nobles would likely applaud the action, it was still wrong... and a bad way to begin the new year.

“So... she makes some big prophetic statement like a discount Emperor Dornkirk and everything is over? By the way, if she says anything about white dragons I’m stabbing her in the face, just so you know.”

“You are not and she won’t.” At least he really hoped that she didn’t. Destiny was already kicking him in the teeth regularly enough that he didn’t need it to be proclaimed across the land.

“So why freidian seers?” Dilandau continued to press, watching the woman openly and flashing her a rather toothy and not overly friendly smile when she finally did look their way. Elbowing the albino sharply in the ribs, Van fixed another chastising glare at him, silently warning him to stop with the power games.

“Freid follows the teachings of Atlantis. Their seers have vast insight and are remarkably accurate.”

“You do realize how stupid that sounds seeing as how there’s two actual Atlantians in the room. Why listen to some silly painted woman when they could get their wisdom direct from us?”

“Because you and wisdom do not belong in the same sentence together. No one wants to hear about how we should just set everything on fire and laugh as it all burns.”

“Not everything.” Dilandau grumbled petulantly over the rim of his wineglass

“Just the parts with people in them?” Van snarkily quoted the dragonslayer, earning himself a slight smile of amusement. Clearly Dilandau was pleased that he’d remembered the old barb towards Faneila. “Look Dilandau, clearly you’re just in the mood to bother me, so why don’t you go and rescue Ignis from his imminent social meltdown and I’ll go ask the seer not to mention anything about white dragons or how you’re obviously still too unbalanced to be let near anything sharper than a table spoon.” Honestly, he had no idea how he put up with the madman. Sometimes Dilandau was the most brilliant and thoughtful person he’d ever met... then other times he was so obviously a certifiable psychopath that Van questioned his own sanity for spending time with him.

Hardly bothered by the insulting dismissal, Dilandau snickered at the king and neatly plucked the glass out of his hands, stealing it for himself despite the fact that there were plenty available should he want another.

“Fine, go play with the toddler. Fate knows he needs someone to look up to after I slaughtered all of his friends.” He sneered cruelly and slipped away before Van could say “screw propriety” and break his face.

Shaking his head and wondering at what twisted whims of fate had seen fit to bring the two of them together as allies, Van headed over to Prince Chid and the astorian royals, already feeling that strange hollowness he got whenever the volatile dragonslayer wasn’t at his side. He was cursed that had to be it.

 

The bells had rung hours ago and the gathered nobles amused themselves, wandering around the great hall, sharing whispered secrets with each other before their candles burned out. Van watched several of them enviously, noting how the nature of these secrets seemed to be more lascivious than guilt ridden. This seemed more like ritualized flirtation rather than the sombre ceremony he’d been told about.

He’d lost track of Dilandau an hour ago and was desperately hoping that he hadn’t “slipped off” with one of the more adventurous young nobles who ‘d been secretly eyeing the lovely albino. Or worse, Regis, who made nothing subtle about the looks he still gave the young captain. It twisted something in Van’s guts to think of what the pale youth could be getting up to now. He’d heard the stories of what other people their age did on this night, taking advantage of the darkness and the hovering adults all crammed in together, leaving many abandoned rooms available. Had Dilandau heard those stories? Was he welcoming in the new year with someone else?

“Keep thinking along those lines and you might be the one murdering someone.” A purring voice whispered in his ear, nearly making the king jump.

Spinning around, he saw Dilandau standing there, cocky smile on his face and a brightly burning candle in his hand.

“Someone let you have fire?” Was the first thing that came out of Van’s mouth and he instantly wished that he could take it back. Thankfully, Dilandau didn’t seem to take it personally and instead gave the small burning flame a rather speculative look.

“I know right? You should have seen the priests face when I took the candle. If he was constipated before hand, he certainly isn’t now.”

“Classy. Real classy.”

“Yeah, so come here.” A slender hand reached out and grabbed onto Van’s arm, pulling him into a small shadowed alcove behind one of the many tall pillars which decorated the hall. They were out of sight of the rest of the court and what with all the many tapestries adorning the walls, even the noise seemed muted somewhat.

Dilandau’s face glowed in the candlelight, the small flame making his crimson eyes shine unnaturally, but Van wasn’t worried. If the dragonslayer was up to something nefarious, he’d have made it quite clear immediately.

“Are you actually going to try to absolve your guilt over something?” Van couldn’t quite keep from sounding utterly skeptical as he looked into those beautifully glowing eyes.

“Guilt? Hells no. I can’t feel guilt and you know that.” Dilandau sneered faintly. The expression didn’t last long though. It faded quickly, only to be replaced by a somewhat uncomfortable frown.

“I... I wanted to say thank you.”

Sheer surprise kept Van silent as he stared at his former nemesis, trying to figure out just what exactly the dragonslayer was up to.

“I know I’m... difficult to get along with at the best of times.” Dilandau continued, his voice soft and subdued, sounding remarkably young now that it wasn’t filled with its usual fires of challenge and arrogance. “Alright, I’m a pain in the ass and I know it.” He amended with a somewhat rueful smile aimed in Van’s direction. “I know you regret our truce sometimes and that sometimes you wish that I’d just go away... but you don’t send me away and you haven’t rejected me.” The smile faded as well and for a moment Van saw the terrible vulnerability of the fierce captain. He wasn’t the vicious and merciless warlord controlled for so long by madmen. Instead, he was a lost and lonely teenager who’d had everyone he dared to care about stripped from him over and over again until the very thought of trust had become a lost dream.

“You’ve done more for me than any other living being Van, and I know that I don’t always act like I appreciate it, but I do.” Dilandau licked his lips nervously, the tip of his tongue looking bright pink against his pale flesh. “You helped give me a new family and you’re fighting to help me keep them safe. I will never be able to thank you enough for that... but more importantly, you showed me that I’m not really alone. There’s someone out there just like me... someone who understands me and is willing to accept me for who and what I am... even if I’m being a pain in the ass.

“I don’t have anything to toss into the fire because I accept everything that’s happened this year. The good, the bad, all of it brought me to this point and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Instead, all I have is this fire in my hands and a promise on my lips that this time you’ll find the heat to be much more pleasant.” As he spoke, he gently blew out the candle, letting the faint wisps of smoke rise up, coiling languidly around each other.

Setting the waxy stick down, he then reached into his jacket and pulled out the shining feather on the gold chain he always wore around his neck. As always, the feather glowed gently in the darkness of the alcove, it’s silvery light radiating a soothing warmth across their skin.

Without a word, Van pulled his own feather free and smiled as the two seemed to brighten, as if competing against each other as to which was the most brilliant.

“Only you could compare the burning of a city to a beautiful proposition.” It was impossible to stay infuriated with the pale youth, especially when those fantastic eyes of his still held the glowing light of the extinguished candle.

“Only you could see it as such.” Dilandau countered with a gentle smile before leaning forward and gently claiming Van’s lips with his. The familiar electrical sizzle made his mouth tingle pleasantly and the king found himself leaning into the kiss, his lips parting slightly in invitation.

Always ready to take advantage of any opportunity, Dilandau deepened the kiss, causing Van to moan softly i pleasure as their tongues met and stroked across each other, causing his entire body to shiver in pleasure even as the feathers in their hands shone even brighter.

“Lets go to your room.” Dilandau whispered against Van’s lips, his eyes still burning with flickering flames. “There’s better ways to welcome a new year than listening to some bald bitch tell us that there’s going to be a war. We make our own destiny.”

Despite all common sense, Van nodded his head, still dazed from the kiss. He knew they should stay, that people would notice their absence. He was a king for Gaea’s sake, he had to keep propriety in mind! But... it was impossible to argue with those eyes, that smile... the way the air sparked in between them.

“I... I don’t have a candle.” The king murmured softly, unable to keep from speaking as he stared into those eyes, feeling that perhaps the flames in their depths were enough for the ritual. “But I wanted to confess something to you.”

“You don’t need to you know.” Dilandau smiled gently, pale slender fingers sliding through tousled black locks of hair as he spoke, thrilling at every point of contact between them.

“I do... I want things equal between us.” He replied resolutely. “I don’t want you to change, no matter how mad you drive me or how shocked I am over the things you say or do. You’re brilliant and fierce and so alive that it makes my heart ache.” His dark eyes locked on those ruby red orbs and he smiled faintly. “No matter how much I gnash my teeth or yell at you... or threaten to step on you with Escaflowne, you’re still perfect to me. You’re family.”

“Does that mean I’m in line for the throne? Because if anything happened to you... say... a terrible fire accident, or guymelef squishing, Fanelia would need a leader...”

“Shut up Alabtou.” Despite their teasing words, Dilandau looked deeply moved by the statement and Van couldn’t help but grin even as he reached up and pulled the pale youth down into another kiss.

“And stay the hell away from my throne.” Van added, savouring the taste of Dilandau on his tongue. The heat, the promise and the passion which accompanied their every touch.

“Then let’s greet the dawn together, away from all this. The others will tell us if anything important is said. Besides, if we really are fated to spend the next year doing whatever we get up to during the sunrise, I’d rather ensure that it’s utterly mind shattering.” Unable to come up with any proper argument, Van nodded his head eagerly. Sharing wide grins of anticipation, the two youths slipped away into the shadows without a backwards glance.

**Author's Note:**

> Awww so sweet. They really are an adorable couple when you get down to it. I really enjoy writing them together because they give no ground with each other and everything is a contest. They really do keep each other on their toes.  
> It was fun working out the customs of the New Years festival and how the different countries celebrate it. FYI, Zaibach doesn't celebrate the turning of the year officially, though many villages, especially on the outskirts of the Empire do gather together and burn logs or coal through the night to keep the darkness at bay, though when asked they will all reply that they're just trying not to freeze to death. The Empire pretends to not notice their silly superstitions so long as it doesn't get in the way. Being raised as sheltered (messed up) as he was, Dilandau has never really come across this ritual though likely did wonder why some of his men stayed up all night on their own volition one night a year.


End file.
